


Helltaker: Beelzebub!

by Tivstock



Category: Helltaker
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Game Spoilers, Headcanon, Holding Hands, Love Confessions, Morning After, Optional Questionable Morals, Other, Self-Insert, Sleepy Cuddles, Vaginal Fingering, You Decide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24343576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tivstock/pseuds/Tivstock
Summary: You, the PLAYER, find yourself infatuated with the Mistress of Flies. Through metatextual hijinks you breach the Abyss to profess your love to her.An eternity with Beelzebub awaits.
Relationships: Beelzebub/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 180





	1. Beelzebub

You are the PLAYER.

You sit in front of your monitor as you begin to feel a crushing emptiness inside you. You have just finished _Helltaker_ , a game about puzzles and well-dressed demon girls, and it’s only just dwelling on you that you have completed the entire game.

If that wasn’t bad enough you have become infatuated with one of its characters. A secretive woman who was revealed only once you’d mastered the game, and the true face of the game’s familiar narrator.

Beelzebub. The Great Fly, exiled from Hell to the dark and imprisoned within terrible Abyss. Though your time with her was short the grandiose and well-mannered demon captivated you, awakening a feeling in your heart that won’t die down. You feel sympathy for the mistress and her pleas for company; only someone truly special could cause you to banish your own soul, after all.

_“Maybe YOU don’t even exist? And I’m just a poor old fly talking to herself.”_

NO, damn it, you ARE real! You wanted to reach through the monitor and tell her she was wrong, that you were there for her. Your hand balls into a fist as you try to settle yourself, only to find that it’s not working. You can’t get Beelzebub out of your head.

If only she was real too. If only you could talk to her and comfort her, offer her a reprieve from her eternal loneliness. That sort of thing is impossible.

Right?

\---

Days pass, then months, then years. Time becomes a blur. After that fateful playthrough you have grown increasingly obsessed with Beelzebub. You know your destiny changed that day, something you’ve played no small part in ensuring.

You stand in a dark room, surrounded by an enormous pentagram. The amount of money you’ve spent, the rituals you’ve studied and/or the lives you’ve sacrificed are immeasurable, everything working towards this very moment as you feel hellish power course through your veins.

Beelzebub is real. Tonight, you will damn your soul to meet her.

You begin the incantation. Your feet move in a pattern you’ve practiced countless times: the secret code from the game, this time in the flesh. The runes you’ve placed on your body begin to burn as you feel your soul strip away from your body. Darkness fills the room.

Taking the final step you watch as a portal appears before you. The thrill of your achievement mingles with the damnation of your soul, your very essence burning as you step towards banishment. Without further ado you leap inside and abandon the mortal coil.

A long, dark walkway stretches before you, leading on to an enormous castle in the distance. Thick smog surrounds you and makes you to choke and sputter. As your lungs burn you know this to be Her pestilence, but as you have imprisoned yourself in her realm you find yourself recovering quickly.

What use is a prison that kills the imprisoned, after all?

You walk along the path and eventually find yourself at the front gates. The castle is enormous and equally ornate, nothing like you could’ve imagined from the game’s brief mention. Before you are able to shout you watch as the gateway rises, granting you access to the castle courtyard and slamming shut behind you.

“Step into my parlor…”

A rumbling voice speaks from all sides. You know this to be Her voice, and its more beautiful than you could ever imagine. You feel your heart thud in your chest as you watch the doors swing open. Steeling your nerves you head inside.

Crimson fabric trails from the walls, framing the many steps that rise to reveal a woman seated atop an elaborate throne. Beelzebub sits before you, her legs kicked over one side of her chair as she lounges, a cocky smirk on her face. Her pointed tail swings lazily beside her.

“Well, well. I wondered when you would return. Have those harlots bored you already?”

Her voice is enchanting. She sounds playful, and a touch irritated at your arrival, but the fondness she has for you is easily heard. You open your mouth to say something.

Those harlots? Wait. She has you confused for someone else.

When you look up you see Beelzebub has realized this as well. Her eyes are huge, staring at you beneath her spiked head of hair. She sits up straight in alarm and leaps from her throne, descending like a fairy as her coattails drift behind her.

The demon stares at you in utter astonishment. “You are not the Helltaker,” she mumbles. Before you can confirm this she squints and turns her head slightly, looking suspicious.

“Who ARE you, exactly?”

Her presence overwhelms you. Struggling to keep your composure you tell her that you are the PLAYER she spoke with so long ago, speaking of your time with Helltaker before rattling off into your highly customizable backstory. You watch as she remains frozen in shock and regale her with the terrible and/or great things that brought you to this day.

Beelzebub interjects halfway through your flashback. Her voice quavers a bit as she stares.

“I… thought you were a dream.”

The demon trembles a little bit. Overcome by emotion, Beelzebub, Sovereign of Pestilence, Warden of Decay and Mistress of the Flies reaches out with her arms to hug you, burying her face into your chest. She breathes in deeply as if catching your scent. You hug her back, and after some time she eventually pulls away with a warm smile. Her freckles push to her eyes as she observes you.

“Frankly, I had forgotten what a miracle was like. It’s been so long since I felt this way.”

Beelzebub sniffs a bit, blinking and shaking her tousled hair as she composes herself. “Where are my manners?” She places a gloved hand on her chest, the white cuffs glimmering in the torchlight. “I, the Great Fly, welcome you to my little citadel.” She beams at you. “Thank you for joining me in twice-over damnation.”

She then looks flustered, poking her fingers together. “…you’ll have to tell me again how you even got here,” she admits, looking guilty, “I spaced out rather hard back there.”

Charged with emotion as the gravity of your situation hits you, you decide thre’s only one thing to do.

**[Beelzebub, I devote myself to you eternally. I love you.]**

  
**[Beelzebub, I devote myself to you eternally. I love you.]**


	2. Love Me, Forever

You forgo a repeat of your backstory. From the bottom of your heart, you confess your love and devotion to Beelzebub, staring into her eyes as you lay your soul bare.

There is silence in the throne room. Beelzebub twitches, her cheeks beginning to turn crimson. She sputters in surprise and holds a gloved hand to her mouth… before she laughs.

“Oho! Well, aren’t you a flatterer.”

With a twist of her hand she attempts to quite literally wave it off. You sense something in her voice; a distant pain, maybe, at the thought that you may be serious. You stand your ground and affirm that you are serious; she has been the object of your affection for more years than you can count.

Her boots turn inward as she fidgets. Her red eyes are unable to connect with yours. You tell her of how long you’ve toiled to join her here, captivated by her messages to you and seeking nothing but her presence. Beelzebub listens you explain how she has captivated the majority of/all of your thoughts, and she sees that you are telling the truth.

She wrings her hands together and brings her eyes to yours, only briefly.

“…I am a monster.”

You tell her she isn’t. Not to you, not in any way. Her voice is monotone as she clutches at her heart.

“I am quite literally a monster. Treacherous, traitorous Hellspawn.”

You tell her you don’t care. She’s more to you than any of that. She frowns as her face turns as crimson as the rest of her pantsuit, baring sharp teeth as she bristles.

“And you are nothing more than an illusion! A figment of an impossible future!” Her eyes grow wild as she rants. “Another ache for my heart!”

The corners of Beelzebub’s eyes are wet. The outburst gives you pause: she doesn’t believe you are real.

You will show her otherwise.

Moving forward, you steal a kiss, placing your lips on her own as you hold her close. You feel Beelzebub freeze, her lips quivering for a moment in shock, before the demon melts in your embrace. You feel her hands wrap around her back as her lips move with yours, a raspy sigh falling into your mouth as she squeezes you back.

Something wraps around your leg. You realize it’s her tail.

Whether your preference is for taller or shorter women you find that she’s just the perfect height for you. Her kissing is slow and inexperienced but before long she’s found the rhythm, reacting to your hands with breathy sighs and gasps.

“Haaa…”

After some time has passed like this she finally breaks away from you, but only with her mouth. Her arms are holding you tightly as she presses her head into your chest. You hear her breath quietly and feel the point of her horn pressing into your skin.

“…tell me that you love me again,” she commands. It’s a weak command; more of a request, like she believes there’s a chance it won’t happen. You oblige her and tell her how much you love her and that you’ll say it how many times she asks.

The demon makes a wistful noise from within as she nuzzles you. Beelzebub looks you in the eye.

“Tell me that you love me.”

You tell her once more. This repeats a few times, her fingers digging into your back as her tail twists around you, before she lets out a loud and happy sigh. She suddenly falls back towards the floor and takes you with her.

Preparing for impact, you suddenly find cushions on the ground waiting for you. Beelzebub wraps her legs around you and peppers your face with kisses.

You feel your body growing hot with hers as she pulls her head back, her eyes misty emotion. Her smile grows into a perverted grin.

“Show me that you love me,” she orders. Her arms flop back to cue you in.

In due time you untie her ribbon to unveil a slice of pale flesh, curving down into her generous chest. She wriggles at your touch and bites her lip as you help her out of her jacket and undo her vest buttons, exhaling heavily as the last button falls away.

Your hands find her pillowy breasts and knead them. Beelzebub lets out a shaky moan, the kind that has been building up inside her for generations. Her legs grip your back even harder as she pins you to her, pressing her lips to yours when she’s decided she misses your taste.

“This touch… the one I’ve dreamed of…” she breathes into your ear. Her words, her touch, her expression; you find all of it erotic and lovely.

You want to make her cum. Your hand moves up to stroke her leg, feeling the soft firmness of her thigh and trailing up towards her crotch as she hisses with pleasure.

She lowers herself further down onto the cushions and moans as you stroke her crotch. You can feel her growing damp, even at that layer, and reach to bring her pants down. She wriggles them halfway down her pale legs and reveals lacy red panties. Beelzebub is dripping.

“Please make me happy,” she pleads. The demon stares at you longingly as she pants. You answer her first with a kiss and then with a finger, plunging into her and stroking.

Beelzebub moans into your mouth and shivers. Her hands find your head and locks you to her, her pussy growing wetter and wetter around your fingers. She’s getting better at kissing you and connects her tongue with yours, sharing breaths with you as you rub her clit with your thumb.

“Yes, yes, YES!”

She stares into your eyes, tongue out slightly as she pants. Beelzebub seems to stare into your soul, or whatever’s left, and find it captivating. She’s almost in a trance.

You feel her thighs press against your hand. Her pussy clenches tightly as you rub her g-spot and you watch her squeeze her eyes shut. She moans louder and louder as she approaches orgasm.

Her body shakes. The demon’s sounds are earth-shattering, echoing throughout the castle as she cries with pleasure. Her thighs clench you tight as she soaks you.

The two of you are left sweaty and panting. Beelzebub tries to regain some composure and fails, her head falling back onto the cushion in defeat. One hand reaches for her heart as she slowly smiles, her eyes distant as she looks up at the ceiling.

“This is a dream come true…”

Her other hand sits idle to her side. You reach for it and feel her fingers lace with yours.

As she snuggles to your side, you hear Beelzebub whisper into your ear again. 

“Love me, forever.”

That’s what you’re here for.


	3. The Morning After

You awaken to the feeling of silk on your back and an ache in your crotch.

Slowly, you remember your nights of passion. Countless hours spent with Beelzebub, the Mistress of Flies and object of your desire, pleasuring one another with mind-shattering sex.

You raise your head. You find yourself in some sort of ornate bedroom, windows overlooking the dark expanse of the abyss, and realize you’re sitting in the biggest bed you’ve ever seen. Lacy curtains fall from its crimson canopy.

Something rustles to your side. As an arm reaches around your waist you see the naked form of Beelzebub, who mumbles something in her sleep and moves to spoon with you. You feel the demon’s soft body upon your back as she grows content.

She’s wonderful. You place your hand gently on hers before you feel your eyes growing tired, your body yet to recover from your mutual lovemaking. 

Falling asleep like this is a dream come true.

\---

Sometime later, you wake to a gentle caress. When you open your eyes you find Beelzebub on top of you, pressing her chest to yours as she strokes your stomach.

“Good morning my love.”

Her smile is warm, filled with adoration. It causes your heart to flutter as she creeps up further and presses her lips to yours. She breaks away with a happy sigh.

“You know how to make this old fly feel happy,” she tells you, placing her cheek on your chest as she continues to stroke your skin. “Last night was… simply incredible.”

You can tell she means every word. You reach up and run your fingers through her hair: what you thought were spikes end up soft to the touch. She purrs as you tell her that it felt like several nights in a row.

“Mmm… was it? I might have lost count.”

Her legs twist around one of yours, squeezing you as she hums with content. You run your thumb down one of her ivory-colored horns and ask if she can feel it. She answers with a little huff of pleasure and twists her legs some more. You can feel her growing wet again.

You might be devoted to Beelzebub, but you’re going to need practice to match her libido. Watching as her cheeks grow rosy you stroke her horn some more and listen to her breathing, feeling it grow hot. Whispering into her ear you ask Beelzebub if she wants some more.

She nods into your chest before looking up at you. “Always…” she whispers.

She crawls into your arms. The two of you grow hotter and hotter before sharing an orgasm to start the morning, cuddling as you catch your breath.

\---

After some time you find yourself walking through the castle, Beelzebub taking you on a tour. The demon seemed happy enough to wear her usual slacks and dress shirt. You are wearing nothing but her bathrobe.

It was her idea. Beelzebub enjoyed dressing you.

“And here is my gallery,” she is telling you as she gestures up at a nearby wall of paintings. Beelzebub smiles with embarrassment and grasps her chin. “I’m only a few decades in. I know I need more practice.”

The quality is quasi-renaissance. You stare in wonder, realizing that these works were created by the demon holding your hand. She glances at your expression and chuckles. “It’s not like I’ve had much else to do,” she tells you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You look up at the closest picture, depicting a dark haired man sitting by his lonesome. His eyes are pained as he stares into his hands, deep in thought. You ask Beelzebub who this is.

“That would be Judas.”

She perks a brow at you. “No introduction needed, I hope.” You shake your head and she places a hand on her breast. “I had a hand in that whole affair,” she tells you, brimming with pride.

Her tail brushes against your leg as she pulls you to another picture. A beautiful woman looks over her shoulder, eyes wide in shock at something you can’t see.

“Lot was quite pious, you know. His wife was another matter entirely.”

She reminisces on her past temptations, feeling nostalgic. As you feel her hand in yours you remember that this is a _demon_ you’ve fallen for. Steeling your resolve you squeeze her hand, and when she blinks you ask her if she’d like some breakfast.

Beelzebub steps closer. “I’d like nothing more,” she tells you, planting a kiss on your cheek.

\---

The kitchen is like something out of a fairy tale. Beelzeb rolls up her sleeves as she leans against the massive counter in its center. “What are you hungry for?” she asks, stifling a yawn as she stretches. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt like putting effort into a meal…”

You remind the demon that you asked HER to breakfast. Beelzebub looks at you in awe as this dawns on her. “You’d cook for me?” she asks in wonder, eyes growing wide.

Regardless of your original cooking skills, you’d known that you would need to beef up your culinary knowledge if you had any chance to woo a demon of her caliber. Ready to impress your beloved you tell her that you’re up to the task.

She exhales, hands on her face as she blushes. “Tell me I’m not dreaming,” she murmurs, captivated by your gall before she shakes her head. “How about something modern?” Beelzebub holds her hands out to you and you walk over to hold her: you like how needy she is. “Show me what a human breakfast looks like these days.”

Seeing as you don’t have any leftovers you’ll have to get creative. You wrack your head for a breakfast that a posh and regal woman might enjoy eating before offering her a shrug.

How’s a soufflé sound?

You watch as she laughs with delight. “I’m glad SOME things haven’t changed.”


End file.
